


Soft Spoken

by writer_whims



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Headcanon, How Do I Tag, M/M, One Shot, safe house, subtle fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer_whims/pseuds/writer_whims
Summary: Jon always liked to read, but the beholding took away what joy he had left.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Soft Spoken

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic please be kind to me I will cry. Sorry if it reads funky im still trying to figure this writing stuff out. Have fun? Idk what eles to put right here.

The thing Martin knew others didn't understand was the way Jon read books. Martin could sit there for hours, watching him thoughtful regard each page before peeling to the next one. He had an aura around him that seemed to lose all tension in his body, like everything that ever happened or all the pain that he felt was lost while he dove head first into a world of fiction or history. That nothing could harm him in between two covers of cardboard bound together. 

That's why Martin hated when he had to watch Jon eat statements, as that Thing took the one confort Jon could provide for himself away. To see the tranquill auar smothered by something dark and sinister. A presence that practically oozed out of him while the words slipped from his tongue. It was horrific, soul wrenching, and everytime after the joy in Jon's eyes would go away for days. He wouldn’t even touch a book. 

The morning Martin decided to read out loud was tranquill. Like a walk towards an ocean, all Jon could hear was a crash of soothing waves, and the soft tongue of an angel. As words fell in elegant phrases, and calm overtook the small walls of the safe house. It was the affect of peace of a long forgotten love of the words forced to become food. Of knowledge that was just to be enjoyed rather than required. 

And Martin bless his soul, watched as not a shadow of fear consumed the lights of this shack of a home, but the bliss of warmth seeped into the seams of Jons soul.


End file.
